Rain Dance
by Dark-AmethystUnicorn
Summary: crappy title I freely admit. erm, this is Leoncentric? ...i hate summaries...


Disclaimer: Don't own it. There it's said. Can I go now?

**Rain Dance**

The storm was fierce; lightning danced across the sky, thunder rumbled in a continuous melody, the rain was fast and furious, a tempo of constant splashes against the cobbled streets. Nearly everyone in Radiant Garden was safely indoors, huddled in bed or around a nice roaring fire. In the streets though, there was a single person content to remain outdoors, soaking wet with his hair and clothes clinging to him, arms raised high above his head forming intricate patterns, his boots clicking against the cobbles and sending waves of water around him, his body twisting and spinning to an unheard melody.

As a child, his parents had watched in amused exasperation as his tiny body spun across the lawn, feet automatically finding puddles to splash in, hands raised above his head in elation as his delighted yells bounced around the backyard. When the storm ended, he would dolefully trudge back to the sheltered veranda, letting his mother fuss and smother him with a towel while she rubbed at his hair; his father pressing playful punches to his shoulders as his deep voice laughingly scolded him.

As a teenager, the moment he heard the first rumble of thunder, his eyes would light up and he would hurry to finish whatever task he was performing so he could go outside. Aerith always laughingly said that during a storm was the one time he acted younger than a peer of Cid's. This statement was usually followed up by a friendly teasing of how his mother had clearly been a psychic, to have named him so aptly after his most favourite thing.

Squall Leonhart _loved_ storms.

Traverse Town had very frequent storms; averaging one or two a week. It was the one thing he loved about that sleepy little town. When he was still a teenager, Cid would rage at him for taking off alone at night, and to go dancing in the rain 'of all bloody things, like a frigging pansy'. Aerith, even back then, would fret and turn into a mother-hen, ushering him upstairs to change out of his sopping wet clothes and then back downstairs to the fireplace, sending Yuffie to fetch blankets from the cupboard while she dashed to the kitchen to prepare a kettle of tea. Leon took it all in stride, rolling his eyes at Cid's lectures, murmuring soft responses to Aerith's concerned flustering, snorting whenever Yuffie made some obscure remark, and when the next storm came, he was outdoors before anyone could blink, the cycle starting all over again.

When the Heartless began to attack their host town in larger numbers and a higher frequency, Leon had been forced to stop; instead, when a storm hit, he would be patrolling the third district where they all lived, keeping an eye out for any Heartless lurking about.

Though occasionally, if there was a storm when it was his turn to do the graveyard shift for patrol duty, he would take advantage of the late hour, leaving his gunblade leaning discreetly against a wall as he danced in the street, careful to keep quiet so as not to awaken anyone or draw attention. At times like those, the storms were his, a fleeting reprieve from the harshness of his daily life and a brief return to that childhood so violently snatched from him.

When they returned to Hollow Bastion, he was twenty-five years old and there were a lot of repairs to be done. During the few storms that his world did have, he couldn't take the time to indulge in his childish pastime. Instead, whenever a storm hit, he was out in the suburbs, ensuring that everyone was safe, warm and dry, ensuring that newly repaired structures could withstand the beating before, exhausted by the day's work, he trudged back to Merlin's and collapsed on his makeshift bed comprised of a thin mattress on the floor and a few blankets and a thin pillow.

During those rare, quiet moments in the first year or so of the Restoration Committee's work, which consisted mostly of paperwork and blueprints, he would look out the window whimsically, remembering the feel of the rain sliding down his neck and slipping beneath his clothes, the way the water would slosh against his boots, brush against his closed eyes and splash against his cheeks, and the utter freedom and exhilaration the storm would invoke in him.

XXX

Sitting next to him in the window-seat, Aerith smiled knowingly at him as lightning fleetingly lit up the interior of her small living room. 

They had all gathered at the small, quaint cottage with its spacious lawn and gardens for Aerith's house-warming party. They had just enjoyed dinner out under the large oak tree in the backyard when the first clap of thunder sent them scurrying indoors while a following bolt of lightning took the power out.

Merlin had used his magic to get a nice blaze going in the pot-belly fireplace and sat drowsily in the plush armchair just to the side of it with Cid sitting in the adjoining chair, a long stem of straw hanging from his mouth, the pair talking lowly and companionably. Yuffie stretched herself out on the floor in front of the fireplace, chattering almost mindlessly to Tifa as the woman sat beside her, her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped comfortably around her legs, laughing occasionally at something the ninja said. Cloud was absent, his current project for the restoration being on the other side of town and hopelessly behind schedule; for once the blonde was working _overtime_. Leon sat, leaning against the window, eyes looking wistfully up at the sky as lightning briefly allowed him to the see the outline of rolling, darkened clouds.

"Get gone." Aerith murmured in his ear, laughter bubbling through her voice, her eyes brightly shining in amusement as the man turned to stare curiously at her. "Leon, you have the look of a puppy begging to be let out for a walk." She paused, a playful hum tickling her throat as she nudged him gently off of the seat. "So go enjoy the storm. You know you want to. I know you want to. Don't worry." She laughed softly, her voice gentle and teasing, gesturing towards their friends. "_I'll_ make your excuses."

A smirk upturned a corner of Leon's mouth as he slowly stood, lifting a hand and squeezing her shoulder affectionately before he walked to the door, his voice a low murmur as he gave a quiet farewell, hand raised in a perpetual wave as he slipped through the door and out into the stormy night. Aerith watched him leave, a giggle rising in the back of her throat as she observed the restrained gleam of excitement flittering across his eyes and the coiling tension in his body as he forced himself to leave in that dignified manner of his.

"Is he _crazy_? It's bloody wild out there!" Yuffie's incredulous voice broke through the peaceful tranquillity followed by a loud rumble of thunder that lightly shook the small cottage. Yuffie pointed a finger at the ceiling, her eyes comically wide. "That would be case and point. Didn't anyone ever tell Leon that going out in a storm is a _bad_ idea?"

Gleefully, Aerith let loose a loud laugh. "He'll be fine." She assured the slack-jawed ninja, her voice low with mirth. "He's just being Squall." As Yuffie turned a questioning gaze on her, Aerith turned back to the window, a discerning smile on her lips as the clouds loomed ominously overhead, a loud burst of thunder shook the house as rain began to slap harshly against the window. "He'll be fine, he likes storms. They _are_ his namesake after all."

Yuffie blinked at her, her lips twisting into a frown as her expression turned impassive. "He's crazy." She declared loudly bouncing over to the coffee table and scooping up a handful of potato chips from the small bowl situated on top of it, cramming them into her mouth. "And he's going to catch a cold." She added, her voice muffled by her mouthful.

Aerith simply smiled.

XXX

This was _living_.

Stripping off his gloves and pocketing them, Leon tipped his head back, his palms facing upwards as he stretched his arms above him as the first raindrops splattered loudly against the cobble-stoned street, the wind whipped fiercely through the sycamores lining the sidewalk as the tall wooden fences and houses creaked in protest at the rough treatment. A smile teased the corners of his mouth as he took a skipping skip, hands moving to twist and curl together over his head. As lightning briefly lit up the street, he twirled; a childishly delighted laugh escaped him, almost drowned out by the storm. Body twisting he closed his eyes; as the storm grew more violent, he danced faster, hands wildly twisting and waving, above his head, at his sides, over his body. Water streamed over him, his hair was plastered to his head, his bangs covering his eyes, reducing his world to a screen of hair, and his shirt was clinging tightly to his skin, every lithe muscle showing through the material as his pendant swung wildly around his neck with his movements. Leon absolutely loved it._ This_ was the way to appreciate a good storm, no one around, no odd creatures scuttling around his feet; just him and the storm.

He sighed contentedly, slowing his movements marginally so he could catch his breath. He felt more relaxed than he ever had been, an almost tangible weight slipped off of his shoulders, shattering into pieces around his feet. He didn't feel like he was Leon anymore, didn't feel like he was the leader of Restoration Committee, spending day after day working tirelessly towards rebuilding his home world. He felt detached from his reality, everything felt surreal, the flow of emotions surging through him, the way his heart beat tempestuously in his chest, the sparkle he could almost feel twinkling in his eyes, the laughter quietly flitting out of his mouth. No. This didn't feel like Leon.

This felt like Squall.

XXX

_End_

Guh, my brain fried out. I'm not sure what I was trying to do with this –I distinctly remember wanting to do a sort of Leon-introspection but the rest is a total blank. Maybe later I'll come back and put it right.


End file.
